One-Shot
by Applet
Summary: List of short stories, told in first person perspective. These stories highlight certain events of various champions. Stories explore different themes, and can range from a single chapter to a few chapters if needed. Chapters will be denoted by champion name. I do not own any of these characters nor settings. All intellectual property belongs to Riot Games. Experimental release.
1. Chapter 1: Nautilus

November 28th, Grey Harbor, Bilgewater

 _I sit alone near the uninhabited harbor. The harbor was abandoned after the tragic event, known as the Harrowing, occurred. This event, led by Hecarim, scattered the inhabitants._

 _4 year ago, when Hecarim ravaged the port, I found it soothing to spend some time alone, away from people. Since Grey Harbor was abandoned, I took residence. Unlike many champions who prefer to stay at the Institute's champion dorms, I prefer the cold murky water. I simply could not stand to be around people and their loud noises._

 _Silence was my ally, I could think in piece._

 _I try to feel my heart, but to no avail. I could not feel anything, not even the weight of my metal diving suit. A cold reminder that I was no longer human._

 _Before my life as the Titan of the Depths, I was a sailor of extraordinary talent. I could sail through the most furious storms, locate the farthest islands, and fight off the deadliest sea creatures. My courage and bravery was second to none, and my shipmates all looked up to me. That is, until I found the black ooze. I was betrayed, and for some time I sought revenge. I attacked one of the ports in Bilgewater in rage, but amidst the destruction, I found it futile to quench my anger. Nowadays, I prefer silence and solitude, I prefer being undisturbed. This silence calms my rage._

 _However, I came here for a different purpose._

 _Lately, I was favored by the summoners to fight in the Institute of War. This was a strange event since I was never popular to begin with, but summoners seem to prefer my skills and abilities nowadays. I began to be summoned in various occasions, so much that I could spend entire weeks fighting. As I feel no fatigue, I was easily able to match the summoner's demands for a tank-support role, and I always fought to my best abilities._

 _It just happens that, in one of my battles, I was engaged in a duel with the Tidecaller; Nami. I was surprised, Nami was a champion I rarely saw, she was even less popular than I. Desipite my endurance, I was unable to catch the Tidecaller, she dodged my every abilities. The match was fierce, but my team and I had won. Our enemies were seething, envious that my team had won. Except for Nami. She had congratulated my team on our victory. While most of my team thought this as a way to gain our pity, I had thought otherwise. There was something about her that was calming my rage. When I fought against her, I could no longer sense any anger. I had briefly forgotten about my revenge._

 _At the time, I had thought nothing of it, but when Nami floated to me, she simply passed by without a word. After being transported back to Grey Harbor, I started wondering why I did not get congratulated upon my victory. Not one to be burdened by such petty feelings, I returned to my task, wandering in the murky depths of Grey Harbor._

 _Some time pass, while in Grey Harbor, I had spied a slick figure, similar to that of Nami pass by. The figure was fast, I could not follow it, I only caught glimpse. But I had become convinced that the Tidecaller visited these waters. Perhaps I could make a friend. She was able to calm my rage afterall, maybe she could find a cure? I decided to explore more of Bilgewater, expanding my search area, and cover more ground.  
_

 _I was summoned on an infrequent basis, sometimes I would fight for weeks, other times I would not be needed for weeks. However, I spend as much time in the Grey Harbor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the slippery figure. I have also started to search more into Nami's populace. These "Marais" are sea-people that depend on a moonstone. In all my exploration at sea, I have never encountered a moonstone, although I think I have heard of something similar through rumors._

 _I happen to pass by Slaughter Docks. Unseen, I watched the activities that were taking place on the docks. Fishermen, sailors, and crewmembers were unloading many small animal species onto the docks, although no large sea-monster was caught. I watched as the animals were dumped on the docks, some trying to escape back into the waters._

 _Just as I was about to leave, I was momentarily distracted by a large crane, hoisting something wriggling inside a net. To my horror, I saw Nami inside._ _Perhaps, that was the first time I felt emotions in a long time._ _The Marai was struggling to break free, but the nets were too tight. I saw the crane hoist up the net, and lower it on the docks, where many sailors were surrounding their prize._

 _Without wasting time, I roared, announcing my arrival at the docks. Sailors and fishermen fled the scene, while others ran up their large frigates to arm the cannons. I cared not for what humans were trying to accomplish, I cared only to destroy that crane._

 _With a swing of my anchor, the crane was destroyed. I grabbed the net, and trudged back into the murky waters. All around me, shouting, cannons firing, shells exploding around me. My diving suit could repel all of these attacks easily. Soon, I was enveloped by the waters, and the cannons stopped._

 _I untangled the net, to see that, although it was a Marai, she was not Nami. Wearing similar headgear, this Marai had older features, creases, and did not bore a staff. She was frightened, as soon as the net was untangled, she swam away. I did not get a chance to ask her questions. The Marai was too fast, I could not catch up._

 _Defeated, I slowly trudged back to Grey Harbor. I had confirmed that Marais do indeed swim near Bilgewater, but if all of them are afraid of me, then it would be impossible to ask for a cure. Interestingly, I had thought Marais were a secretive people, but the lack of a moonstone may have driven them to be impatient.  
_

 _Perhaps my time had not come, perhaps my curse was an ill omen to the Marais._

 _Still, I continue to wait. Maybe one day, I will meet the Tidecaller again._


	2. Chapter 2: Vladimir

March 9th, Noxian Capital, Noxus,

 _There are times that I wish I could simply pass on, just as my master had done, and his master before him. The last hemomancer, I walk this earth, alone. My allies are simply members of the Noxian High Command wishing to use my powers. Many recoil in fear when they see me, and rightly so. I have done gruesome deeds simply for the rush of adrenaline. In my youth, I have committed many acts of horror that I wish I had given more thought._

 _When I challenged the Noxian High Command for a place in the League of Legends, I was filled with the pride and ambition of someone who thought they could challenge the world. The Noxian High Command conceded to my request, and granted me the right to represent Noxus. I was feared as one of the strongest top laners in the League. I was picked as the favored top lane champion of many summoners. I finally had the chance to prove my talent against the world._

 _That was some time ago. There is nothing left for me. My popularity had declined, there were newer champions that were more useful to summoners. In the end, I was just being used._

 _I often ponder on what would have happened had I chosen a different path. Had I not murdered those two teenage boys, which lead to my life as a hemomancer, perhaps I could have found a wife, settled down and lived a normal life. I know that, it is simply a figment of my imagination, I cannot lead a normal life. Everyone fears me for my abilities and my past. If only I could undo my past, perhaps change my identity._

 _With nothing to do, I walked down the streets of Noxus. In the distance, I see two guards huddled around a woman and her child. Not far, I see the brutalized body of what I think is the husband. The commotion had drawn quite a crowd._

 _As I approached them, the guards snap to attention. Evidently, the guards know who I am, and what I am capable of. I simply wave them off, telling them to carry on their duties, and walk off. This was not my business, it would be unwise to get involved._

 _Still, somewhere, I knew there was something wrong. No matter the consequence, I find that guards beating on civilians had always been something appalling. Guards are supposed to protect the populace. I knew that, the right thing to do would be to stop the guards, but I simply cannot bring myself to go back._

 _Sometimes I wonder, am I too afraid? Too afraid of changing myself? Change is difficult, especially for someone like me, whose reputation precedes him. Is there really a chance for me to redeem myself?_


	3. Chapter 3: Heimerdinger

March 10th, College of Techmaturgy, Zaun

 _The ceasefire treaty between Piltover and Zaun, due to the League's influence, have brought many new visitors to both cities. Hextech is the current topic of technology, as both cities race to gather the greatest minds of the century to develop their technology and surpass the other._

 _Being the genius I am, there was no logical reasons to remain at Piltover. I have come to Zaun to study the harmful effects of hextech augmentation on the body. Augmentation has been done in the past, and is quite common in the present, thus there is no denying that eventually, side-effects from implementing metal and magic in one's body will manifest themselves. While Piltover mainly implements their hextech technology into their devices, Zaun directly insert metal and magic in one's body, claiming that the power source should be as close to the mind of the user as possible._

 _The more interesting aspect is that, while Piltover has set limits on what kinds of experiment a scientist can perform on live subjects, Zaun has no such limits, as long as the living subject is oneself. Zaun seems to be very keen on giving people the freedom they want._

 _The first thing I noticed is the weather. Grey skies, black smoke rising from the factories, Zaun certainly does not take care of its environment. The people, however, do not seem to mind. In fact, Zaunites seem to be very content, more so than the citizens of Piltover. I've heard rumors concerning Zaun as a dirty city with nasty people, so far, only the city description seems accurate._

 _I've seen reports of experiments being done concerning the correlation between happiness and the dirtyness of the environment, and many studies have suggested that the happiest cities are also the cleanest cities._

 _I asked a young man for directions towards the College of Techmaturgy, and the man actually accompanied me all the way to the college. Very interesting behavior for someone living in a dirty city._

 _The walk was short, and along the way, the man bought me an apple. I do not think that he realized I was a champion of the League, and apples are nothing compared to the food I get treated on a daily basis. No matter, the gesture in itself was welcoming._

 _I bid the man farewell, and I entered the College of Techmaturgy. As expected, there were many experiments happening as soon as I walked in. A group of scientists were already waiting, and I quickly followed them to their conference room._

 _We had discussed about the effects of increasing life expectancy with Zaun's newest artificial heart. This heart was imbued with a magic core that could be recharged via something that looked like a solar panel. The scientist claimed that the artificial heart would solve many problems such as not having enough heart donors , with people having to delay their surgery for years on end. Many have died on the transplant list, some very bright minds, and Zaunite scientists have been struggling to come up with a feasible solution. The scientists seemed convinced that this artificial heart could not only solve their heart donor problem, but also extend life, as they theorized that the heart was the driving force behind life; so long as the heart beat, the person could live._

 _Unconvinced, I asked if there were any proof that this artificial heart was effective. To my surprise, the scientists informed me that this is a prototype, that my arrival was uncanny and I was invited to witness the first artificial heart transplant. The media was also very curious, but not wanting to add additional pressure to the surgeons, the College kept the surgery date a secret. Eager to see the results, I followed them to the operating room._

 _On the operating table, strapped and unable to move, was the young man from the streets that offered me the apple. I immediately inquired about the straps, and the scientists said that the side effects, and after effects, can be violent. I told them that I wanted to talk to the subject before the surgery, and the scientists agreed on ten minutes._

 _I sat beside the young man, asking him why he would volunteer. He said that, the apple he bought for me, he bought it with all the money he had. His family had died when an unknown plague swept through the Slums, and his wife is depending on his income. He informed me that he had a terminal disease that would slowly turn his heart rotten, and that this transplant was his best chance at becoming famous and living. I agreed that a successful transplant would indeed make him famous, and being the posterboy for artificial heart transplants would certainly net him enough money to live well. In fact, everything the young man said made perfect sense, I just felt that, there was some incomprehensible thought process behind the man's reasoning as opposed to my own. The man was eager to throw his life away in an untested environment, and seemed so happy about the fact that the surgery was going to succeed. The man was gambling everything into this one transplant, the risks were simply too high that I would never be able to make the same decision had I been in this man's position._

 _I left the surgery room after ten minutes. We climbed upstairs and watched the ongoing surgery from a balcony above, behind thick glass. I did not want to tell the man what I thought about his surgery, but things happened as I expected._

 _Already having a weak heart, the man's body rejected the artificial heart. Even under strong pain killers, the man's body twitched violently as soon as the artificial heart was planted in his body. The entire group was shocked that their artificial heart was backfiring, but I could not help and feel bad for the man. The group endured a grueling half-hour as the surgeons struggled to replace the man's heart with a donor's to revive the man. But to no avail, and after a few minutes, an assistant ran up the stairs to inform us that the subject was dead._

 _Thanking them for their time, I left the College of Techmaturgy, and traveled back to Piltover via zeppelin. Along the way, I could not help but replay the operation. All through the surgery, the man's smile never faded, as he believed he would finally be able to start a new life._

 _In the end, none of that mattered. Worst of all, I did not even get the man's name to remember him by.  
_


	4. Chapter 4: Maokai

March 11th, Twisted Treeline near Zaun, Valoran

 _This forest once served as the battle grounds for the Twisted Treeline matches. Although not as important as the Summoner Rift matches which decided the political outcomes for entire nations, the Twisted Treeline has had some importance in the politics between cities sharing a border, and minor territorial disputes. The matches, however, were no less explosive than those occuring on Summoner's Rift._

 _The intensity of daily battles had scarred Zaun's last forest, and turned it into a twisted, dark, and gnarly version of its former self, filled with corrupted magic. It was obvious that this forest could no longer support the matches, thus the summoners moved the Twisted Treeline arena to my home in the Shadow Isles._

 _All this destruction, wrought by the folly of these humans, who seem not to care for their surroundings. I have fought on the Twisted Treeline in both Zaun and the Shadow Isles. I have been an active top laner on the old and new Summoner's Rift. Everywhere I go, I see summoners. Everywhere I go, I see destruction. Everywhere I go, I see death. Do these humans not care for the environment?_

 _However, I have also seen the progress of nature. After the humans have left the forest near Zaun, the forest began to recover. The dark magic that hung around the trees like a dark fog had dissipated. I saw saplings growing from the ground, where the lanes once where. These little saplings forced their way out underneath the stone pavement that served as a path to the bases of each team. Against all odds, nature had begun to recover from the damages._

 _I see this natural progress towards recovery, and it fills me with hope that the same could happen with the Shadow Isles. I carry with me the vital spark of my home, and one day, once the humans have left the Shadow Isles, I will be able to plant the seed that will make the Shadow Isles bloom once more. I only hope that the time comes soon, as I grow weary of this burden._

 _The sapling on my shoulder began to shake. Someone was near. Perhaps I could be of assistance. I decided to approach these people slowly and as quietly as possible, although the latter was a difficult feat due to my large frame. Still, I did not want to disturb anyone who may be afraid of my form, afterall, I do look menacing, even for a treant._

 _It was not long before I began to hear noises. It appears that a man and woman, along with their daughter had gotten lost in the forest. How they came to this forest is not of my concern. How they get out is an entirely different matter. IF they could get out that is. There is no telling if these humans will one day burn entire forests to satisfy their crops, or cut down multitudes of trees for their lumberyards, all in the name of science and progression. But I know better, humans are all greedy, everything is about money and power. Even the Summoner's Rift matches have large sums of money given out to summoners for winning important matches. Perhaps it is best if I never help these humans._

 _I started to see a few shapes. The man and woman were middle aged, but their daughter was young, holding a stuffed tiger. The man was frustrated, and the woman was having a hard time standing up. I could see that both the parents were bruised and had a multitude of small cuts. Even the daughter's dress was scratched._

 _These humans were in such poor condition that I could not bring myself to take my anger out on them. It is not right to put blame on people for acts they have not committed. I hope that, if I were to direct them out of this forest, perhaps these people will be less likely to burn down nature for their own benefit.  
_

 _I stepped out from the group of trees I was hiding behind, and instantly the parents gasped. They sank to their knees, believing me to be their end._

 _I raised my arm, and pointed in a direction. All they had to do, was follow in that direction, and they would be out of the forest. The parents were still frozen in fear, believing me to be a monster tricking them into their doom. I did not know what to do to make them believe my intentions._

 _Just then, the little girl approached me, and held up her stuffed tiger. Apparently, my large frame does not scare her one bit. In fact, she was much more interested in the sapling on my shoulder. The sapling hopped down from my shoulder, and looked at her stuffed tiger._

 _The little girl laughed. The sapling amused her by jumping around, climbing on my arms, and swinging from the branches protruding from my body. The parents seemed more relaxed, and no as frightened. I took this chance, and spoke in a deep voice, informing them that the path out of these woods was a long walk, but if they follow me, I will lead them out of the forest. The parents reluctantly agreed, their daughter seemed excited, I could not figure out why._

 _I took the humans out of the woods after some time. If the parents were grateful, they didn't show it. Once out of the woods, they simply continued to walk forward, grabbing their daughter's hand, without turning back. Good riddance, the forest needs not any assistance from humans to recover. I prepared to continue my trek into the forest, when I heard the little girl call out._

 _She came running, and asked if I was a champion of the League, since she had seen some of the competitive matches. I confirmed that, indeed I was a champion, and she immediately recognized me. She said that the summoners and their magic were fascinating, but it was a shame that the magic could only be used for fighting. She said that, once she is old enough, she wants to become a summoner, but rather than fight in competitive matches, she wants to use her influence and protect all the wildlife. She showed me her stuffed tiger, full of stitches, which she proudly proclaimed that she stitched up her toy when there was a tear._

 _I saw that the man was running back for his daughter. I directed her towards her father, and bid them farewell. Slowly, I lumbered back into the forest. The sapling on my shoulder let out a defeated squeak. I looked back, and saw the little girl smiling and waving at me. I waved back, and kept waving until the father had dragged his daughter out of sight._

 _Perhaps there are still some good humans in this world._


	5. Chapter 5: Nunu

Icy Plains, Freljord

 _The Yeti Rider watched the frozen wasteland. Once, the landscape was littered with glaciers, as tall as the tallest mountains in Valoran. Now, the glaciers have retreated, becoming much smaller over the years as the temperature rises._

 _Nunu was still unfamiliar with the newest technology used by Valoran's southern cities, this so-called hextech technology that combines magic with science. However, Nunu is more than accustomed to the effects of hextech, entire glaciers melting due to industrialization and mass production. The southern cities are becoming more advanced at the cost of destroying the environment, that was a concept that Nunu fully understood; the epitome of greed._

 _Willump grunted, even the Yeti knew that times are changing._

 _Nunu gazed at the horizon. He was reminded of his time as a youth, back when he was part of the Frostguard. Before Lissandra corrupted them. Nunu was one of few that knew the truth behind the Frostguard, a secret that he intended to keep, only for the benefit of not creating internal conflicts. Freljord is already rooted with conflicts and political struggles, with champions allying themselves in order to contest what little resources the land has to offer. Nunu did not wish to complicate things further, but he knew that the time to reveal Lissandra's manipulation tactics would soon present itself._

 _A lone arctic fox limpered, catching Nunu's attention. Willump grunted once more, directing Nunu towards a hunter, who was chasing the fox. The hunter stopped at the sight of the Yeti Rider, lowered his bow, and cautiously approached the duo. The arctic fox limpered, as if trying to hide behind Willump._

 _Nunu hopped down from Willump, intending on convincing the hunter to turn away. Nunu does not believe that violence is the solution, that there is always an alternative to conflicts. Nunu told the hunter that this fox is to be released, and that the hunter needs to cut down on food and appreciate the environment. The hunter replied that his family had not had meat in weeks, living off foraged plants. His youngest was ill, and needs medicine, but the hunter is poor, and there are no shops nearby. The hunter further explained that fox hunting was in his blood, his father had taught him the skill with the bow. The situation was simple, hand over the injured fox, and the hunter's family gets to eat. Let the fox go free, and the hunter's family starves._

 _Nunu looked back to Willump, who seemed protective over the injured fox. Nunu knew that, whatever decision he made, Willump will be supportive, just like in the past. However, this does not making his decision any easier to make._

 _Although the duo get along just fine, Nunu has had many disagreements with Willump, especially when morality conflicts with environment. On one hand, Nunu intends to place people's livelihood first due to his time with the Frostguard, on the other, Willump seeks to protect nature and the animals. The two have learned to appreciate both side of rational thinking, but at dire times, a decision will be made that will leave one side unhappy with the other. True balance is near impossible, compromise very unlikely, and sometimes, sacrifices must be made._

 _Finally, Nunu reached his decision. The Yeti Rider informed the hunter that this fox was under the protection of the League of Legends, and any harm towards this fox shall be taken with the Institute of War. As a champion, Nunu had many privileges, although it pains him to have to abuse his position as champion. However, Nunu always acted for the greater good, or so he believed._

 _Defeated, the hunter turned around, his back hunched. Without the fox, the hunter will be forced to seek other prey to feed his family. Nunu saw a look of exasperation in the hunter's face before he walked off. Having come so close to finding food, the hunter must restart the process of tracking, hunting, and killing off beasts all over. Hunting is a dangerous profession, a hunter's life is always on the line._

 _Nunu firmly believed that his decision was for the greater good, there was no turning back. Nunu turned to Willump, who, in turn, looked at the injured fox. The animal hurriedly scurried across the icy plains, leaving drops of blood in its wake. Nunu could only pray that the animal finds shelter for the night._

 _Nunu knew he could not stay long, he was deep in Winter's Claw territory. Although the Institute of War guaranteed safety for all champions, Nunu would rather not take chances with any other locals that might recognize him. Nunu took one last look at the horizon, before the duo ran across the icy plains back towards Rakelstake, the capital of Freljord, city of Avarosans._


	6. Chapter 6: The Lone Soldier Part 1 of 3

_Before the establishment of the League of Legends_

The war was not over, but the battle was done. Victory was out of reach yet again, but this time, the Noxians were forced to retreat as well. The war effort started going badly, less and less Demacians were pouring their money to support the army, despite each and every Demacian citizens having served in the war.

I was a survivor, and this alone was a great feat. I have fought besides the great field marshals, warriors of incredible prowess and strength. And even they fell on the battlefield. I had fought beside my comrades, rushing to capture key locations and securing outposts. I have seen soldiers die, I had my fair share of Noxian blood on my hands. My comrades, who were blood and family, all perished one by one, until I was transferred to another platoon, then they too perished. I couldn't keep count the transfers, I couldn't keep count of the number of battles. I knew my days were limited, such was the life of a Demacian soldier unfortunate enough to be sent to war.

My mother and father had it easy, they served three years, and they were let go, having satisfied the requirement. Every Demacian citizen had to go through service, we had to protect our nation. But they still had it easy. For those three years, there were no major engagement, the nations of Noxus and Demacia had signed a peace treaty, a peace that was supposedly to last a hundred years.

Just like previous treaties, that was short-lived and optimistic. The war broke out once more when I reached the age of recruitment. My parents were too old to be considered fit for duty, although they were signed up for the reserves. But they would never see any actions, the reserve was the safest place to be during a war. One would get food, shelter, payment, just for being available. But everyone knew that the reserves were just another excuse to flee from the fight. High command would never touch the reserve, although there were plenty of able-bodied soldiers just sitting there, men and women alike. It would take the entire eradication of the Demacian army as a whole before high command even considered sending reserve soldiers. No, high command was too proud, they would never send anyone but their best.

My record was very impressive. Having fought the Noxians at numerous locations, I was lucky to have survived each and every single one of them. Of course, I was not without injury. My face was littered with numerous scratches, my nose a pulp after too many fist-fights. I had arrow wounds throughout my body, from my legs to my arms, roughly patched up since medical supplies were low at the time. My skull was dented from the time I had taken a heavy blow from the enemy champion Sion, the medics told me I was lucky to have survived. Perhaps my helmet, which was taken from my dead comrade Alex, saved my life. Alex was my best friend, and he still watches over to this day, and protects me everywhere I go.

My most recent battle ended in dissapointment. High command was reluctant to send more forces since they figured we were better trained than the Noxian brutes. Well, the Noxians sent exactly that; brutes. Towering monstrosities, also known as human beings, wielding great axes and hammers, splitting our ranks like a knife would do to butter. It took ten men to take down one of these brutes. The ground was littered with broken armor, and groaning. Men were split apart, blood made the ground slippery like some sort of crimson ice. It was a massacre.

But we were not helpless. For we had the Might of Demacia, Captain of the Dauntless Vanguards, the highest honor bestowed upon a soldier. I had fought beside him, although not strictly under his command. But I followed him and his retinue, into the enemy. I saw the hopes in the our soldier's eyes, and the fear in the enemy brutes. The Captain led the soldiers fearlessly into the enemy ranks, smashing brutes left and right. It was if some God had bestowed a legend to help us win.

That did not last long. The enemy also had their champion, the sinister assassin; Katarina. Garen and Katarina fought in a dance of blades, while both armies were locked in battle. No side gained an advantage. I stabbed, weaved, dodged, raised my shield, only to have it smashed. I saw my comrades die once more, and I began to lose hope.

A trumpet was heard, and the brutes started to retreat. It took me a second to realize that it was our trumpet, sounding our retreat. I was glad. We may not have won, but I lived to fight another day. My sergeant, was not so lucky. I watched as our medic desperately tried to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. My sergeant grasped her arm, took her hand, and stuck something in her palm, while whispering "Tell her I'm sorry", before passing away. It took all my nerves to not break down and cry, I had seen it too often, but I could never get used to it.

The wounded soldiers were given preference on the wagons. Garen himself tugged at a cart, fearing that the horses were too tired after their long trek. I was left to walk, along with many other survivors. And the trek was long, we had traveled five days and night out, and we will travel five days and night back to the capital.


	7. Chapter 7: The Lone Soldier Part 2 of 3

_Before the establishment of the League of Legends_

We were ambushed, those cowards. We should've known, only Noxus would rely on such underhanded methods.

Assassins were dispatched to our camp at night, the night before we were to reach the capital safely. These assassins had one objective; to take as many lives as possible. They went after the wounded, those that could not defend themselves. But they made a mistake. They went after Garen.

With a roar, Garen cut down three assassins with one spin. The leader, a young but experienced assassin called Talon, lunged forward, and once again, Garen became locked in a duel. However, with their surprise factor taken away, our soldiers regrouped, and drove the assassins away. Talon jumped all around the place like some fearsome cat, before disappearing into the night. Garen called a halt, and commanded us to take what provisions we had left, burn the tents, and carry the wounded back to the capital, double time. We barely had any rest, but we were determined to reach the capital alive.

Despite what many considered a defeat, Demacia warmly opened its gates for us. We were greeted with fanfares, bouquets of flowers, cheers and applause. People ran to the soldiers, greeting them, kissing them, jumping into their arm. The soldiers' relatives, wifes, husbands, fiances, significant others, everyone was happy to see their safe return.

There were many that, were not able to share that happiness. After all, war is brutal, and in the end, only the survivors remain. War is not a glorious battlefield where soldiers fight for honor. No, war is land of no rules. There is no winner, there is no loser, there is only death, and the guilt that the survivors must carry.

I looked around, I could feel the happiness, the excitement, and the joy in the air. Soldiers broke off from their platoons, some were seen kissing their wives and husbands, some greeting a new member of the family while they were away. I took this opportunity to say good bye to my platoon members, and broke off from the main group.

I swerved around the people, dodging left and right. I was used to dodging, I had done it since my days as a student. Avoiding attention was easy, avoiding people was easy, and I had gotten good at that. All I had to do was predict where people were going to move, and move away from that spot, it is a skill that was refined through my long years of combat.

Finally, I reached my apartment, a shoddy place, barely affordable with my wage. Active soldiers are expected to live in the barracks with their platoon members, and thus rarely get time off the fight. And when they do, they are expected to live with family members or a relative, or anyone for that matter, for the short duration of their break. I had none of those. My parents disowned me after I told them I was against fighting the Noxians. Why couldn't we live in peace? Why were there differences? My parents thought I was an anomaly, a plague to society. Their own son was a plague. And so I had run away. But fate is truly a curious thing. I had run away from the fight, only to join the fight as a soldier. I needed a place to stay, and I did not have any. The army took me in, and I fought for them. Would my parents be proud? Or call me a hypocrite? Afterall, it is quite ironic.

I fumbled for my keys, finally picking the right one. I opened the doors, cobweb falling from the door frame. I still remember the last time I was here, a knock on my door, my order to deploy, I didn't even have time to finish my breakfast. The food was still on the table, rotting. There were several rats scurrying around, looking for any morsels remaining.

I sighed, it was clean up time. While everyone was celebrating, I had to clean up the place, and make it liveable for a short while. I picked up trash, emptied my trash bin. I took off my uniform, leaving the undergarments on. I was getting ready to wash my clothes, when something piqued my interest. Outside, a soldier and his lover were passionately kissing. It's no surprise, war drives people apart, and it was luck that brought them back together.

I looked down at myself. Then I looked at a nearby mirror. There was my reflection, and only my reflection. Truly, people fight for their differences, and I had long lost my fight. I am but an empty shell that takes commands. I had no one to greet me, my own parents disowned me. I fought so hard, yet no one recognizes my efforts. For five years I have fought, and I have not received a single promotion, unsurprisingly, commanders treated soldiers as disposable pawns, we were sent to battle for the benefit of the commanders, not the nation.

In the comfort of my home, that was when I could truly be myself. And that was the bane of my existence. I wish I could be someone else, someone stronger. Someone who was loved. Someone like Garen, mighty, powerful, and full of confidence. Instead, I struggle to live another day, I am afraid of death, and I was alone.

In the comfort of my home, it was the only place I was even allowed to cry without being yelled at.


	8. Chapter 8: The Lone Soldier Part 3 of 3

_Before the establishment of the League of Legends_

Once again I was deployed. I was shut in my apartment for a good week before my deployment orders came in. I had a day to prepare, which was awfully lenient, but I guess they wanted to give everyone a bit of a break.

We marched for ten days. Intel had suggested that Noxians were mounting an invasion to a vital outpost. High command was not as quick this time to dispatch the soldiers, perhaps they wanted more time to plan the operation. However, once the plan was set out, orders were given, and the army was once again deployed to fight.

I was transferred to a new platoon. My sergeant was inexperienced, he was freshly promoted. I wondered once again, why I wasn't promoted, but I knew that it was not fair to take out my anger on the new sergeant. While other members of the platoon were rough with him, they would ignore his orders, ignore him in general, I decided to take the time and talk to him? Why? I was lonely, I could use someone to talk to, besides, the other members did not seem like the type to get friendly with.

We had a conversation, and I taught him some aspects I learned from my long years of fighting. Despite his age, he was brilliant, he knew tactics that even I found complicated to understand. But he lacked in experience, his tactics were near flawless, but he never considered soldiers' nerves on a battlefield. We were trained to act perfectly in unison, but during a real battle, things don't go as planned. Nevertheless, for the first time in quite some time, I was happy to have a conversation.

We kept marching, and we camped. I had grown quite close with my new sergeant, and we had a talk about our loved ones. He shared his family stories, his girlfriend waiting for him at home, about his claim to honor and fame. I didn't want to interrupt, after all, he will find out the horrors of war for himself. I just had to make sure that he kept his head in battle, literally.

On our tenth day, we reached the outpost. It was deserted, ransacked. No Noxians in sight, but no Demacians either. The survivors, if there were any, must've fled, which was unnacceptable by Demacian standards. Any desertion was met with harsh punishment, sometimes even death, that's how strict the high command was.

A platoon was sent out to scout while the rest of the army unpacked and made fortifications. We would wait out until high command ordered us back, which was unlikely to be soon.

On the eleventh day, a battle broke out. A thick fog had settled in the morning. Our reconnaissance platoon encountered an enemy platoon, and the battle horn was sounded. We picked up our swords and shields, hastily grouped, and ran towards the sound. Combat had already started, and I could already see motionless bodies. In the thick fog, it was hard to tell friend from foe, but I did my best to swing only at those with horned helmets. A towering warrior surged at me, battle axe ready. This one was a fool, he was so fast that he could not control his body. I side-stepped, and plunged my blade to his side. The towering warrior collapsed, as I wrenched my sword free.

A cry for help sounded, and I knew that voice.

My sergeant had gotten himself into deep trouble. I ran to see him, desperately dodging blows from Noxian warrior. This Noxian was just playing. I could also see some of my dead comrades, evidently the Noxian was skilled enough to dispatch many of them. This Noxian was a veteran, he was experienced, and he was bloodthirsty.

Something came over me. I was in under no obligation to help my sergeant. Afterall, I could just easily pretend that I never heard the cry, and survive another battle. The fog would make it hard to distinguish friend from foe in the first place. Was my survival not my priority?

And I snapped. This was not redemption, this was not retribution. I howled a challenge towards the Noxian, daring him to come at me. The Noxian responded in kind, he relished a challenge against me, another veteran. For the first time ever, I decided to act for my own selfish grandiose. I was about to be a hero, I was about to save a life.

It was over in an instant. The Noxian stumbled, after being shot by an arrow through the chest. I was ecstatic. But then I realized that, I too, was pierced. The fog worked both ways. The Noxian and I were shot by enemy Noxian arrows, who mistook both of us for enemies. They were half right.

I crumbled to the floor. I could see a medic coming to help, but an arrow found him in the head, and he fell. I felt my lifeline draining, my blood that I had kept in my body flowing through the arrow wound. I had no strength left, I could no take the arrow out. My sergeant was no where in sight, I was only surrounded by the dead.

Yet, I felt at peace. I knew I was dying, I knew that I could not be saved, but I was content. In the midst of confusion, I had decided to fight for myself, for the first time. In five years of long combat, I finally made a decision because I had wanted something. What exactly I wanted, I will never know, but for a moment, I felt free from high command's grasp.

I lay there, letting my eyes gloss over the battlefield. It appears that the Noxians were being driven back. That was good. That was good for us. My sacrifice would not be in vain.

In my last moments, I realized that, it was truly over. I was truly going to die. No matter the honor in death, the glory in sacrifice, nothing mattered. I could not escape, I did not survive. Because of my foolish selfish action, I paid the ultimate price. No one was to remember me, I will go down as one of the many soldiers who gave their lives for the nation's cause. And the war won't end. No, it will go on, claiming more lives.

I realized that, I was alone. And I will be alone. In this dying battlefield, no one would find me. We are the dead, and we won't be remembered. There are too many of us, Noxians and Demacians alike. I silently cursed myself. My vision was fading, I was growing weaker. The battle seemed to move away, it was almost serene. I realized that, I must be the last of the dying soldiers, still breathing, still clinging to life, to luck that some medic would stumble upon me, to hope. But there is no hope, there is no luck, there is only death. And each soldier faces death alone.

For the final time, I shed tears at my loneliness.

~The Lone Soldier


End file.
